"The Full Monty" was on TV the other night. My wife and I love the movie. It's just as funny and sensitive and entertaining as it was the first time we saw it in 1997 in the theater.
A major storyline is Dave's deep anxiety about this weight. It provides one of the best lines in the movie. One of the lads peers at Gerald's wife's anti-wrinkle cream and muses whether it would work on men as well, prompting Dave to caustically observe that there's no such thing as "anti-fat bastard cream."
What is striking 13 years on is that by today's standards Dave really isn't that fat. He's got a moderate food baby barely protruding over his belt, far from the Buddha bellys so common today. When he sheds his shirt, he doesn't even have the line - the visible border between the belly and the rest of the torso. He wouldn't even be considered that overweight these days. Just a little husky.
It's disturbing to see how the definition of "fat" has been dumbed down - or up - in just over a dozen years.
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